The Sunday Sermon: November 28, 2021 – First Sunday of Advent
Scripture: Luke 1:26-35
Hearing of Hope
This Advent season, as you have surely surmised by now, we will be listening and looking for, and – once we’ve heard and seen – we will be proclaiming and sharing, Hope. As we have been doing throughout the Fall, we will be engaging Hope in the hour that precedes this worship hour together. Our Sunday school classes have already “heard” of some Hope this morning, and will be in the weeks ahead, seeing, proclaiming and sharing it even more deeply. We invite all of you to join in on the deeper and broader revelations that happen before this hour each Sunday this season.
Pray with me …
This morning we seek the “Hearing of Hope,” and are reading from the first chapter of Luke. Our Advent Hope, finally is the gospel of Jesus Christ, whom we call Immanuel – God with us, who came to tell us (to remind us, really, though many of us have so thoroughly forgotten what it felt, and feels, like it seems we’re learning it for the first time), that we are not alone. When we are surrounded by family and busy with our work and play, we are not alone. When pain and loss collide in our lives, we are not alone. When we are full of the joys of life and all its goodness, we are not alone. And when we are depleted and unsure about how to move forward, we are not alone.
Such is the nature of our Christian Hope. It is not a feathery thing perched delicately on our souls. It is a strong rope that pulls us up and guides us forward to safety and to the abundant life that God, through Jesus, calls us to. We hear it when our ears are open. We see it when our eyes are open. We proclaim it when our mouths are open. And we share it when our hearts are open.
This morning, on the first Sunday in Advent, we first “Hear Hope”. So … listen, for the Word of God. Read Luke 1:26-35. The Word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.
We can hardly imagine a time more full of Hope than the moments, the days, and the months after the announcement that a child will be born. Surely, every emotion imaginable crashes in on the individual, or individuals, who will be responsible for the birth and raising of the soon to be realized “Hope child” – fear, worry, and concern collide with joy, promise, and love and all are experienced together, but our Christian Gospel story begins with the announcement of the birth of a child because we are expected to be, first and foremost, hopeful once again as we hear the Gospel good news. We hear of this hope through the angel’s visit to Mary in Luke and to Joseph in Matthew. “You will conceive in your womb, Mary, and bear a child.” “Joseph, (Mary) will bear a son.”
With ears open, amid all the confusion and chaos, Mary and Joseph hear Hope. And so do we … if our ears are open. That’s a big if.
Our world … oh, our world, full of fear and death, of wars and famines, of wildfires and earthquakes, of viruses and vaccines – all of this and more, devastating and dividing us. Our world! How can we keep our ears open when we know that we’re going to “hear” all of those things and the pain and suffering they bring? Wouldn’t it be nice to have lived when Mary did? To have been a part of the simple life they lived? Poor, yes, but with family to support them and, of course, one another? No cell phones or internet, no department stores or commercials. The possibilities, the promises, the hopes would surely have been heard more easily by Mary in her time.
Well, allow me to share just a bit of what “Mary’s time” was like.
The announcement we just read and heard again occurred about nine months before a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. The announcement of a “hope” that was to change the world happened in the year that Herod the Great died and he divided his Kingdom into three regions that were to be governed by his sons. The angelic birth announcement was made about the time that a Jewish rebel named Judas, son of a bandit, attacked Sepphoris, then the administrative center of Galilee, sacking its treasury and weapons, and arming his followers in a revolt against the new Herod’s rule, and so against the Roman Empire. The announcement of this birth came about nine months before the Roman Governor Varus sent a detachment of his army into Sepphoris to quell the revolt, capturing and burning the city and reducing its inhabitants to slaves.
Mary was born and raised in Sepphoris. Or so it is widely thought. It is not irresponsible to speculate, then, that members of her family were killed, captured and sold into slavery. Sepphoris is about five miles from Nazareth where Mary and Joseph raised the boy that was born to the promise of Hope made in the midst of these earthly realities – fear, death, and despair – that are part of every time and place since the births of humans have been happening.
And yet … and still, we read that Mary “heard Hope” in the announcement of the angel that unto her a child would be born who would be holy and called Son of God.
Mary’s time was not a more peaceful, simple, time of eternal promise that made it easier to “hear Hope” than our time, today. War and hatred and the raging fires of earth and soul were a reality for her. And yet … and still … So –
What about us? Having debunked the myth that “they had it easier / we have it harder,” and so getting rid of our most common excuse, where are we hearing “Hope” in our lives today? As we prepare once again to celebrate and commemorate the birth of Hope, itself, where are we hearing of it in our lives?
Where are we hearing of something that we know will happen, not simply hearing of something we wish will happen? Where in our lives are we waiting with anticipation – maybe at times with impatience – for what we know and believe is coming. This is the Hope of Faith, not a feathery thing, delicately perched, at all. But a steely certainty that, while we may not know how or when, will take flight and change “what is” to “what should be, what must be”?
Where?
I want you to search your hearts, search your souls, for this Hope in your life. Close your eyes, if it helps. Empty your mind of thoughts about what comes next in your day, or of how sleepy you feel in this moment, and search. Begin with the reminder I shared when I began speaking. Our Advent hope in the gospel of Jesus Christ tells us “we are not alone.” You are not alone. You have Hope. Where do you hear it in your lives? Search …
- In a child or grandchild, like Mary – as yet unborn and grabbing at your pant-leg?
- In the spoken promise of “We’ll see you again soon,” whenever soon may be?
- In the soon to be end of a college semester, or beginning of a Christmas break from school?
- In a booster vaccine shot?
- In the imminent visit of family, the return of a loved one to see you, or of a gathering of old friends?
- In the sure and certain hope that, while death has changed the presence of your spouse or parent or dear friend, they are with you still – in more powerful ways than they have been able in the months or years past?
- In the anticipated delivery of gifts to be given or gifts to be received?
- In the memories of Advents and Christmases past that have set the traditions of the present – traditions that will begin again soon, now that (sing) “Christmastime is here?”
- In the music you will be singing and hearing again in this sanctuary?
- In new relationships and the new life that they are providing for you?
- In the breath and warmth of the person sitting next to you?
- In the candle burning in the wreath placed in this sanctuary that you know will be joined by the other candles as Christmas Day draws near?
- Where else in your life are you hearing of Hope?
Search … Listen … It’s there. Where are you Hearing of Hope. Slowly open your eyes and take in the beauty of Hope. Come back to this time, before that Hope has happened. Find it richer and deeper, more full of … well, Hope.
Now, I’m not naïve. And I’m not irresponsible. I know that some of you find it very difficult, if not impossible to hear Hope in this forced exercise, either because of the time and place, or because you genuinely can’t hear it in your life right now, regardless of where you listen for it. I “hope” that the latter is not the case. I will strive with every fiber of my being and every breath I take this Advent season to be “loud” enough with Hope for anyone who feels unable to hear it, to hear this: You are not alone. I love you all. As your Pastor I am here for you. As Joel, I am here with you. We are not alone. There is Hope in that. Where are you hearing it?
Listen for it. And Live into it … let us sing together. Amen.
Reverend Joel Weible, Pastor
Pewee Valley Presbyterian Church / November 28, 2021